Covered up
by THOSE stories
Summary: What if Carlisle had a dark side? What happens when his coven finds out? (very different to how it sounds, but i dont know what to write here) M for language but its not too bad


**Tanya POV**

I shifted another box out from under the bed. This one was a lot smaller than all of the others. Dust clouded up, making me cough and splutter. When it cleared, I glanced down.  
Curiosity overcame me. It was different from anything else I had found in the house. This one was at least three quarters smaller than the rest; about the size of a shoe box. It had a tick piece of twine tied around it; in the manner one would tie a gift. The edges were worn and the cardboard was fraying. It became apparent to me that this one had been deliberately kept, not accidently shoved under here like the rest of the stuff. It held some importance.  
As I moved it to one side out of the way, the bottom dropped out of it. Its contents spilled onto the floor with the whoosh only paper could cause.

The first thing I found was photos; all taken with beautifully skilled hands. I slowly flicked through them. There were hundreds, each as wonderful as the last. To say they were pleasant however, would have been wrong. Although the photography was stunning, the photos themselves depicted crumbling houses, ruined buildings, a few contained the violent image of people lying on the street, homeless with no place to go. They were mostly taken at night, in the dark, causing long shadows to creep into every frame. It brought a lump to my throat. All of them showed the darkest possible side of human nature, what we did to each other.  
A strong longing hit me, an instant need to meet the person who had created these. For some reason, I suspected it was not Alistair, whose house we were helping clear.

I picked up the next item; a small tattered book. It was once a hard back, but now the cover was soft with wear. The front cover was so torn it was hardly there at all. It exposed the front page, an image that brought tears to my eyes.  
An angel; she was beautiful until you looked closer and realised her wings were ripped and broken. She wore a smiled of pointed teeth, it being much too wide to match her dainty features. Although it was disturbing, I didn't want to look away. I couldn't stop myself from turning more and more pages. Some of them were cover with words, all scrawled in an elegant script. Others contained only single verses. Mostly though, there were just sketches; too many to count. They were all just as disturbing as the one of the angel. Some of the paged had been ripped out in what seemed to be a hurry.

Next there was sheet music, all hand written. There were almost as many pages of it as there were photos. It made no sense to me; I had no idea how to read it.

"I had forgotten about that," Alistair said from the doorway. His voice was watery.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to invade your privacy," I said quickly, guilt spreading over me.  
He smiled shakily. "It's fine." He came and knelt next to me. "God, I forgot about all this. It's kind of beautiful really." He sniffed like he might have been crying had he been human.  
"Where did they come from? Did you do them?" I asked carefully.  
His smile became sad. "No, actually." He cleared his throat and reached into the box, straightening out a crumpled picture that I had missed. He showed it to me. I recognised him and Garrett, although the third boy was a mystery.  
Surprisingly he had golden eyes; he was a vegetarian. He had ebony black hair which was perfectly straight and hid most of his face. He wore dark clothing and appeared to be quite young. His skin was incredibly pale and he was very little, although his figure was mostly hidden by his long cloak. The Volturi's cloak.  
He pointed to the boy. "He used to spend hours drawing and writing. Suddenly he just stopped. He destroyed everything he'd created; he burnt it all. There were thousands more but he turned them all into ash. These are the ones Garrett managed to get off him…" He sighed heavily. "After that he stopped doing any art at all. All of it. He dropped out of the Volturi and started studying harder. It was a shame because he was so talented. I suppose he's talented now too, but it changed him. It's like he just started masking his emotions. I still love him; he's my best friend, but he's a whole different person now. Occasionally I'll catch a glimpse of what he used to be like when he accidently lets his guard down but it scares his coven. They have no idea. He has so much to deal with I think it just got to him; he never talked to us about anything, even when he was really depressed. I guess withdrawing is his way of making it better, but he's been hurt too much to ever be okay again…" He studied the photo which he was now holding. He sniffed and wiped his hand across his face. "Shit. God I need to see him. I keep putting it off but it's not making anything better. I guess I'm just scared in case he's a mess again. I mean, chances are he's no worse than usual, but still…" He stifled a small sob.  
I wrapped my arms around him without thinking about whether it was appropriate or not. "It's okay," I rubbed his back.  
"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "If anyone is going to make me cry, it'll be him…" He stayed hugging me for another minute or so before pulling away again. "Except, please don't tell him about this. I think I'll give him the box back, but I don't want him to know that I was upset…"  
I chuckled. "That's kind of sweet, but I don't know him anyway. Are you okay?" He still looked as though he was going to lose it.  
"Yes," he mumbled quietly, apologising again.  
"He was a vegetarian," I commented.  
"He has always been a vegetarian," he laughed. His smile faded.  
"That's kind of cute that you care for your friend so much, but I honestly have no idea who he is," I smiled, squeezing his hand.  
"Carlisle."  
"What?" I looked over my shoulder at the randomness of the statement, wondering if maybe the Cullens had shown up out of the blue.  
He laughed, and gave me a small smile. He handed me the photo again. "Me, Garrett and Carlisle."  
I stared at it in shock. "But he's so…different…"  
"Hmm."

"Hey Alistair, I think tomorrow we should go see- shit. Holy crap. You still have the box." Garrett froze in the doorway.  
"I guess I do, although I don't know how Carlisle is going to feel about it. Here look, you were such a faggot." He tossed the picture to him, grinning. As it landed at his feet, he recovered from his shock.  
"Oh my god. Why didn't we let him burn this? Jesus." He made a face and put it in his back pocket.  
"Hiding that from Kate, are we?" he teased.  
"You know me too well," Garrett rolled his eyes. "By the way, you were also a faggot. And I was a new born. Every new born goes through the faggot stage."  
The three of us laughed.  
"We need to go see him tomorrow," he repeated. "But I don't know if the box should come…"  
Alistair looked down at it. "It's worth a shot."  
"You need to stop trying to fix him," Garrett snapped. "There isn't anything actually wrong with him, just leave him alone. So what if he's different? At least he's stable."  
He rolled his eyes. "And what do you know about being stable?"  
"He's okay! He's not slitting his goddamn wrists anymore is he?" His face suddenly changed into a mask of horror. "Is he?" he whispered.  
"How should I know?" he chuckled, but I could see fear in his eyes.  
Garrett swore and started pacing.  
"Calm down, my friend. Esme wouldn't let him get away with that. You know that."  
"If he was, Esme wouldn't have a goddamn clue! Oh my god Alistair! What are we going to do if he is?" He looked as though he was going to cry.  
"Garrett, calm down, okay? He's probably fine."  
"He's never fine! He's just pretending to be fine!" The tears started then and Kate was instantly there, hugging him.  
"What's wrong sweetie?" she asked, squeezing him tightly.  
"Nothing," he mumbled, pushing her away.

As we pulled up in front of the Cullens house, a wave of nerves hit me. Alistair tapped his fingers anxiously against the cardboard. For some reason the things that I had been told about Carlisle worried me, covering the things that I had already seen in him. When we saw him for the first time, it was as though I was looking at a stranger.  
"Hey Carlisle?" Alistair said quietly.  
"Hi." He smiled and hugged his friend, and I briefly saw the vulnerable boy in the photo.  
"Since when do you hug me?" he laughed.  
"Since now," he laughed too.  
Garrett watched them cautiously and I realised Alistair was holding the box behind his back.  
"Carlisle I have something to show you, and I don't want you to freak out, okay?"  
"Yeah, okay, but if it's in your pants please keep it to yourself," he joked.  
"I'm serious."  
Carlisle's smile disappeared as if he knew what was coming next.

Alistair revealed what he was holding.

Carlisle bolted. 

**Reviews please (: even if they are bad**


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